


Safe

by UmJamLam



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Gift Fic, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:40:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29345277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UmJamLam/pseuds/UmJamLam
Summary: King and Queen share a moment, long before the fall of Hallownest.Second place winner of my fic raffle!
Relationships: The Pale King/White Lady (Hollow Knight)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Safe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eulogied](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eulogied/gifts).



She had so oft admired these lands of the mosskin, bright, verdant, and so invigorating to her roots. Much like her husband, the White Lady didn’t often venture out to the rest of their kingdom, but Greenpath was one place she would come to for some peace, quiet, and to enjoy some particularly rich soil. That was the reason why she had claimed some of its land for her own, creating a haven in which she allowed only the closest of servants.

It surprised and pleased her to no end that today the Pale King had requested her presence by his side, and more so that they had ended up here—though she could tell there was something on his mind. He had been preoccupied for the past couple days and even more reclusive than usual—something that worried her, but she did not push; she knew in time that he would tell her what was on his mind, and she felt certain that this little trip was for that purpose exactly.

The air was full of the quiet chittering of mosskin and the distant calls of the maskflies flying overhead. The ground beneath them was soft and as she walked, her roots drawing in nutrients as they dug in and out of the dirt. She was hardly what someone would consider a speedy person, but despite that her wyrm stayed as close to her side as possible, never drawing too far ahead.

Her eyes crinkled as she looked down at him. It was a far cry from when they had first met. That first time he had approached her she thought he had only done so for political means, to further his hold on Hallownest and fulfill what most considered to be the criteria for a king—having a queen being among them. She made it quite clear to him then that while she did not flaunt her powers, it hardly meant she didn’t have any and that she would not withstand the disrespect of being a means to his ends. The look of surprise on his face that day was not one she’d ever forget. To give credit where credit was due, he had apologized. From there they simply talked, got to know each other, let something sincere blossom.

Now he treated him with more kindness and respect than even the greatest of her worshipers, while never stepping into such a sycophantic role, and she could not imagine her life without him.

They passed the gates into her gardens and in silence made their way up to the highest greenhouse, where at last he stopped to look out the glass walls at the expanse of her gardens with all its keepers and colorful array of flowers and dark, crawling vines.

“You’ve made a lovely retreat for yourself here, my root.” He at last spoke, disentangling a claw from the folds of his robes to place against the glass.

She glided gracefully to join him at the glass panels, looking down as well, trying to scry out if anything in particular had caught his eyes.

“I would hope so, I would shame my kind if I could not so much as manage this.” She jested softly, tone lighthearted.

He inclined his head in acknowledgment before sighing and turning to face her, craning his head. It was just the two of them here, so as she always did in such cases, she reached down and he gratefully slid into her arms so she could lift him, and the two could speak face to face.

“I am afraid that I can only bring you bad news today. Some days ago I had a vision, and my investigations had led me to believe that it is too late to avoid the worst of it.”

\--ah. The White Lady knew that it would be something serious, but she hadn’t been expecting it to be something brought about by his foresight. She gave a small nod, not wanting to interrupt and encouraging him to continue.

He sighed, but then pulled himself together, recalling his regal bearing. “I have a vision of The Radiance’s return. In her rage for being cast aside, she began to forcefully ensnare the minds and dreams of our subjects, binding them to her once again. It was a horrible sight, spreading like a disease. Bit by bit, our kingdom was taken from us.”

That was quite a lot to take in all at once. Her husband had never been one to beat around the bush and she had become accustomed to that, grateful for it even, but this took a moment to process.

“You said you were investigating? What was it that you learned?” She asked at last.

“The miners who have been excavating the crystals found an idol of her. It is a statue at the uppermost reaches of the Crystal Peaks. I thought I had gotten rid of all of them, but it seems I was mistaken. For all I know, there may still be many more scattered out there. They let it be but they began to talk, and undoubtedly they have already spoken to others about it. As more speak of her, as more remember her, the stronger she will become. I do not know whether to give the order to cease all talk of her once again, or if this time, it might backfire and only hasten the process of her reawakening.”

White Lady could understand his concern. Their subjects still idolized him, there was absolutely no doubt about that. Yet, there was something to be said about first impressions and the gift of freedom that he had tempted so many with; forgetting back then and thinking only of him was much easier the first time around than it would be now. Ordering people to forget, might if anything, cause them to think of her more—and then there were those who had been born _after_ the Radiance was gone and had always known _his_ light—those who took it for granted. _They_ would be harder to keep in line.

“Then what do you propose we do?”

His expression, once trouble, then solidified into one of determination at her question.

“Either we find a way to kill her, or we find a way to seal her away for good, so that no amount of faith or belief will matter. Neither will be easy, but neither is impossible.”

She nodded, setting her face into one of equal determination. “Whatever you may need of me, let me know, dear. I am by your side, as always.”

His expression softened and he raised a hand to place against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered close and she leaned into his claws, despite the dangerous news she had heard, this touch put her heart at ease. There were no doubts in her mind that her husband would find a solution to all this, and that they would all finally put that wretched moth behind them once and for all.

The moment was unfortunately broken when she sensed someone climbing the stares and she looked towards the entrance way, then back to her wyrm. He understood the message and she carefully placed him back down where she straightened up and folded his hands. Almost a minute passed before the servant tentatively stood at the threshold.

When they turned to her, she bowed so quickly and so low for a moment the White Lady almost thought she would knock her head against the ground.

“Your majesties—pardon the intrusion! We’ve found some mossfolk where you intend to have the stagway station built and they are putting up a bit of a fuss. What should we do?”

She shared a look with the Pale King before he inclined his head. “If you wish to go, I shall wait here until you are done.”

The White Lady let out an impatient sigh, before nodding. “This should not take long. Fine. Lead the way.” The servant looked briefly relieved before quickly turning away, and escorting the White Lady away.

~~~***~~~

He watched them go, waiting until the two figures were out of sight, before turning around and looking at the greenhouse. His visions were wishy washy dreams, as the power of foresight so often was. Hazy images spoke of possibilities not yet set in stone, and in this moment that seemed to be all he had. Worth exercising taking action for, especially considering the high stakes, but also something to be cautious of. There was one image, however, that stuck in his head that he could not shake off.

Here, at the highest peak of his wife’s gardens was not this greenhouse. Instead a cluster of thick brambles, twisted into a hovel within which she kept herself bound. Her roots seeped through the cracks, high into the topmost parts of the caverns, and deep, deep into its depths—there she sat, all alone, eyes opaque and sightless.

All alone, but safe.

_Safe._


End file.
